Chapter Fourteen
Mari still felt a little sore after the fall from the horse nearly a week ago and was grateful tonight’s entertainment was whist instead of a dance.
She was seated at one of several card tables in Lady Castlereagh’s elegant ballroom-turned-card parlor.
Hundreds of beeswax candles glowed from crystal chandeliers, reflecting light off the highly polished floor.
Ornate brocaded chairs that normally lined the walls of the ballroom now were placed in fours around linen-covered tables graced with out-of-season hot-house flowers.
Lady Castlereagh and her foreign-minister husband had recently returned from the Congress of Vienna and the viscountess wasted no time in letting the ton know she was back.
Mari gave Jamie a sidelong glance as he took the seat to her right.
She had informed him before they left the townhouse that Lady Castlereagh was a stickler for propriety and he had to be on his best behavior.
Jamie just grinned and told he was always on his best behavior.
Mari started to challenge him on that point, but since her fall from the horse—and the kiss—Jamie had been a model of decorum, exhibiting only perfect manners.
She couldn’t decide if she liked him that way or not.
The kiss—how could a man’s lips be so firm and soft at the same time?
And so warm and dexterous? Her face warmed as she recalled how slowly he had moved them over her mouth, brushing lightly, teasing, coaxing, enticing her to want more…
and then his velvety tongue slipping inside, completely overwhelming her with sensation as she reveled in the taste and fullness of him.
Her body flamed suddenly as she remembered her response.
She had practically thrown herself at him, flinging her arms around his neck, digging her fingers through his silky hair and moaning like a brazen hussy.
Was that why Jamie had reverted to respectable behavior?
Because she had acted like a street doxy?
How totally embarrassing. She would simply have to control her behavior from this point forward.
Trying not to squirm in her chair, Mari made a pretense of smoothing the silk of her lavender evening gown.
Jamie confused her. He was arrogant and bossy, expecting her to follow his orders, yet he could be amazingly gentle as well.
When Nevin had returned with the carriage that day, Jamie had treated her as though she were a piece of fragile china, making sure she was seated securely on the seat, tucked into blankets even though the weather was mild.
Was that the behavior of a man who probably now considered her somewhat of a lightskirt?
Once back at the townhouse, he had hovered over the physician’s shoulder, no doubt annoying the old man with countless questions until Aunt Agnes had firmly told Jamie he would not be staying in the room while the doctor examined Mari.
The elderly gentleman had nearly been flattened, though, as Jamie bounded back through the door as soon as it opened.
Would Jamie be so concerned if he did not still respect her?
Or perhaps, since she had shown such unrestrained emotion, he wanted to make sure she was well enough to continue what had been started?
Not that Mari was clear about what would have happened next, but she was sure it would not meet with Aunt Agnes’s approval.
But if Jamie wanted more—not that she should even be entertaining any idea of what more might be—then why would he be so politely distant?
Jamie truly was a man of contradictions.
“Are we ready to play?” Maddie asked, breaking into Mari’s reverie.
“Play?” For a moment, Mari thought her friend had somehow deduced her naughty thoughts, then she realized Maddie was referring to whist.
Nicholas eyed her intently across the table, and she hoped her face was not as hotly red as it felt. Mari managed a smile. “Of course. Forgive me for woolgathering.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my sweet. You look quite lovely when you woolgather. I must remember that for your portrait.” Nicholas glanced at Jamie. “I will deal. The rules say you shuffle the cards, Highlander.”
Jamie fixed his golden eyes on Nicholas like a hawk about to swoop in.
Nicholas stared back, his gaze icy. A shiver ran down Mari’s spine, and for a moment she wondered if one of them was about to challenge the other.
But for what? This was only a silly card game, and no insult had been given.
Yet the air fairly crackled as neither man blinked.
She glanced left toward Maddie, only to find her friend’s eyes wide and round. She sensed the tension too.
Merciful heavens. It would never do if Jamie and Nicholas resorted to fisticuffs right here in the ballroom. Lady Castlereagh would never overlook such an infraction to the rules. Mari had to do something. But what?
As if it had a mind of its own, her hand slipped down beneath the table and across her lap to tentatively brush Jamie’s thigh.
His reaction was instantaneous. Although he retained his stiff posture, she felt the tension easing out of him. Quickly, she removed her hand. So much for her deciding to control her behavior. Now what would he think? But she had to do something.
Jamie glanced down and picked up the deck, shuffled the cards loosely and placed the pack back on the table without saying a word. He hadn’t acknowledged her gross indiscretion, so maybe he understood why she had done it.
Nicholas smiled coldly as he presented the deck to Maddie to be cut. She did so rather clumsily, her gaze still fixed on Jamie. Nicholas’s long, slender fingers adroitly slipped the cards to each person with a professional flair that made Mari think he had done this many times before.
Jamie picked up his thirteen cards, and Mari was getting ready to study hers when she felt his thigh press against hers. Barely managing not to gasp, she shifted slightly, breaking the contact. His leg followed, assailing hers once again, although he remained intent on moving his cards around.
Mari could hardly keep from sputtering. She shifted again, to no avail.
Jamie’s thigh remained affixed to hers. If she moved any farther, she would practically be falling off her chair.
Maddie was already giving her a strange look.
Mari gave her a weak smile, trying to ignore the warmth from the contact spreading up her leg to pool deep in her belly.
“You are to play the first trick, sirrah,” she managed to say, although her voice sounded somewhat raspy.
Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “Ye want me to play a trick, lass?”
She sighed. Did he really not know the rules to whist, or was he being deliberately obtuse? Before she could respond, Maddie giggled and answered.
“You put out the first card. We each have to match the suit with a higher number if we can. You and I are partners as are Mari and Nicholas. Whichever team has the high card wins the trick.”
Jamie laid down the queen of hearts. “I like the idea of winning.”
“So do I,” Nicholas muttered.
“We shall see about that,” Jamie answered and caressed Mari’s leg with a slow movement of his own, although his gaze never turned her way.
Mari’s breath hitched as he continued the easy movement back and forth along her thigh.
Lud! Had Jamie taken complete leave of his senses?
How was she supposed to endure this torture?
The leisurely stroking was doing strange things to her insides.
The butterflies crashed madly about her stomach.
Lower still, muscles clenched in her abdomen while a steady throbbing began between her legs.
She felt warm moisture begin to gather there too, and suddenly her gown felt much too tight against her breasts.
Mari panted slightly. The room was much too warm.
Yet Jamie sat there as calmly as if nothing were amiss.
“Are you feeling well, Mari?” Maddie asked. “You look a bit flushed.”
If she only knew. “It is just quite warm in here.”
“I was just thinking I might need my shawl,” Maddie answered. “Are you sure you are not ill?”
“I…I am fine.” Mari laid a card down, wishing she could openly glare at Jamie, but that would just draw unwanted attention.
She settled for a quick kick to his ankle, although her soft slipper hardly made an impact against Jamie’s boot.
A corner of his mouth lifted at the effort, and then he shifted his leg away.
She felt cold from the sudden removal of his body heat and shivered.
Maddie looked worried. “I really think you are coming down with something.”
“No.” Mari gave Jamie as deliberate a look as she dared. “I am sure I will be fine for the rest of the evening.”
“If ye need anything, lass, ye just have to ask,” Jamie said.
What did he mean by that? Was he implying more?
Mari could not tell since he kept his face impassive.
The man truly was insufferable. What she needed was to put some space between herself and him, but that would hardly be proper before they had played all thirteen tricks. What if he started up again?
To her relief—or at least she thought it was relief, for the pulsing between her legs had subsided—Jamie behaved himself for the rest of the evening.
As the four of them went to get punch later, Nevin and Yancy approached.
“Are you quite recovered, Miss Barclay?” Yancy asked.
“Very much so. I was just a bit shaken,” Mari replied as Nicholas returned.
“Nae thanks to either of ye,” Jamie nearly growled.
Both men had the grace to look chastised. “We should not have crowded your mount so closely,” Nevin said.
“Ye would be wise to remember that the next time ye approach a lady mounted side-saddle.”
“You were on a horse?” Nicholas interrupted. “Whatever were you doing riding?”
“My sister is an excellent horsewoman,” Mari answered. “Mr. MacLeod has been trying to teach me those skills.”